“Who the devil you may be, I shall have you to-day,” said the commander, looking intently fierce at the brigantine. “Give him another shot.”
Another deafening report was heard, and the grey smoke shrouded for a moment the dark riggings of the war-vessel, and then grew thinner and thinner, and rose above her masts.
A moment after, four flags ran up the peak of the brigantine.
“Ho! read what the fellow says, Mr. Cypher,” cried the commander, with no small degree of excitement, “he hears what we can say, I see.”
Mr. Cypher took the telescope.
“Y,” he said, “O,” he continued, “U,”—“YOU,” he proclaimed, with a loud voice.
“Hoist the answering pendant:” it was done.
The first four flags of the brigantine were now lowered, and four others hoisted in their place.
“A,” proceeded Mr. Cypher, deciphering the new signal, “R,” “E,”—“ARE,”—“you are.”
“Hoist the answering pendant:” it was done again.